


Catharsis

by eggboyksoo



Category: NCT (Band), WayV (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Childhood Friends, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers to Rivals, M/M, Mentions of Doyoung and Ten, Mentions of alcohol poisoning, Post-Break Up, Self-Reflection, Yukhei-centric, diss tracks, it doesn't happen though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-10 23:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20536583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggboyksoo/pseuds/eggboyksoo
Summary: When it ends, the members of Sun Tribute all stare at each other. They’ve got something. A raw and unedited video of their new song, To Ash, is released onto their YouTube account 13 hours later.And then, nine days after To Ash is released, an up-and-coming band called Antivenom release a new song on their Twitter account. It’s called Twisted. The song credits list a Renjun Huang, and the accompanied video features their vocalist and lead guitarist performing together. For a rock band that teeters on the edge of metal, it’s the softest, most mellow song they have ever put out.-In which Yukhei Wong relives his relationship with his first love; both through his own songs, and the songs being written about him.





	Catharsis

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone! i'm really nervous right now, this is my first luren fic!!!! i love them so much so it's exciting to be finally contributing to this side of fandom. i wrote this literally within 24 hours, which is nuts. i think this might be one of the longest fics i've published on my account. please forgive the absolute lack of knowledge i have about bands; i tried to do my research, but i don't know how thorough i've been. also please ignore the shitty fake-deep songwriting in this story. just know it's meant to be way more deep than this but i couldn't find songs to accurately describe what i needed. either way, i hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> shout out as always to ditto, to whom i sent bits and pieces as i was writing; your enthusiasm and your help made this possible. thank you so much!

Yukhei Wong happens to be in a band with Donghyuck Lee, stage name Haechan, who was recently named one of the greatest vocalists of their generation by _Rolling Stone_. He’s always found it a little ironic—Donghyuck doesn’t break a sweat singing Mariah, and Yukhei can’t even hit a note in the bottom of Donghyuck’s range without his voice cracking.

Good music turns Donghyuck from a very talented vocalist into an angel sent from God. And while Hyuck has pipes, he’s the first to admit that his songwriting skills could be better.

(Donghyuck’s favourite self-composed song was written when he was incredibly, blindly drunk, included the lyrics, _Fuck you, Mark Lee, I really want to eat your face! Why won’t you let me, you stupid fuck! You’re hot and it’s annoying why won’t you let me love you!_ In his drunken stupor, Donghyuck sent a recording of it off to Mark. Mark had confessed the next afternoon, once Donghyuck had recovered from his hangover, and that’s the only reason why Donghyuck likes it so much.)

And that’s where Yukhei comes in. You see, for all that his voice reminds some people of nails on a chalkboard, it’s the way he wrangles words into poetry, uses his compositions to tell stories without words, that boosts Donghyuck’s voice, crooning in their ears as they reach heaven.

Their band, Sun Tribute, is all about uplifting. They love bright music, warm music, hopeful music. Maybe it’s weird, considering how much they love rock tropes, but that’s who they are, what they want to do. And considering the attention that they’ve received in the last two years, it’s what the people like, too. Yukhei and Mark love to write stories about euphoria and happiness, and dreams. Donghyuck’s vocals elevate everything, soaring to new heights, and it’s Jeno’s beats and his drumming that grounds them, stops them from getting lost.

But today is not that kind of day.

“_Tastes like ash, but my soul’s on fire_,” Donghyuck sings softly. Mark strums along to the chords next to them, frowning as he hears the lyrics for the first time. “_Your heart bleeds black, I burn for you._”

“Jeez, Yuk,” Jeno says, shaking his head. “Who _hurt_ you?”

Yukhei has a face, a place, and a time. He remembers exactly how it hurt, and even now the memory still throbs—but he grunts, noncommittal. He focusses on his words instead. They’re clunky, raw. He doesn’t know how to make pain and heartbreak pretty. It’s not his forte. He does his best to hide the hurt, to focus on the beautiful things. He tries to avoid pain so much he doesn’t know what to do except call it for what it is.

He scribbles down a a line, finishing off the final verse. _I worshipped at the altar, but there was no god_. He hums, satisfied. There. He steps back as Donghyuck leans towards the page, nose almost touching it as he reads. He clicks his tongue, turning back to Yukhei over his shoulder. “Shit’s dark, dude.”

Yukhei shrugs. “I’ve just been in a different kind of mood, lately.” He pulls at the neck of his guitar, moving it into position. “Can we just… play it once? It doesn’t have to be anything. I just need to let the piece go. You know?”

Mark and Donghyuck share a look, before they look back at Jeno. “Ready when you are.”

Jeno counts them in.

It starts slow, then it builds. Yukhei follows the beat, pulling where Jeno pushes. He imagines an inferno—a spark turning into a wild blaze—then the way it sputters, everything all burned away. Mark joins in, the guitarist filling in the rest of the melody, and finally, so does Donghyuck. Donghyuck is a fallen angel, sultry, dark; he sounds like he’s lost it all. He’s perfectly conveying the message of the song, the perfect conduit between Yukhei’s words and thoughts and emotions.

When it ends, Mark playing the last chord and hearing it linger like the deep throb in your heart when you think of sad times, they all stare at each other. They’ve got _something_.

A raw and unedited video of their new song, _To Ash_, is released onto their YouTube account 13 hours later.

By the time they check their social media accounts the next morning over brunch, people have written articles about what the change in their sound might mean. Yukhei’s Twitter notifications are filled with questions, most of them worried Mark and Donghyuck have broken up. 

> **Lucas** @suntributelucas ∙ 2m  
#markhyuck lives my dudes, i wrote ‘to ash’. thank you for the support x

* * *

For the next three days, “Lucas Wong”, “Sun Tribute Lucas”, and “Lucas To Ash” trend on Twitter. Yukhei amusedly reads four articles detailing his traumatic breakup with the solo artist Song Yuqi, which had happened a week ago, after she’d returned to Beijing. He ends the best article to Yuqi, stomach hurting from laughing too hard. Yuqi replies with three vomit emojis and a skull.

The weird, ugly feeling that had been sitting on his chest for weeks begins to dissipate, and the media play for _To Ash_ is pretty good. Their following increases and people talk about how good their recent album release is, so it’s a win-win. Ugly period over, Yukhei is looking forward to spending some time writing songs with Mark—something softer, full of love and hope and comfort.

And then, nine days after _To Ash_ is released and the press stop reporting on how cut up Yukhei and Yuqi are about this break-up they’d never even been together for, an up-and-coming band called Antivenom release a new song on their Twitter account.

It’s called _Twisted (Acoustic)_. The song credits list a Renjun Huang (RJ), and the accompanied video features their vocalist and lead guitarist performing together. For a rock band that teeters on the edge of metal, it’s the softest, most mellow song they have ever put out.

The small but fierce RJ sings softly, sadly, staring down the camera with a message to impart. He does it so well that his face will trend for a week and his band will blow up. The boy in front of the lens doesn’t seem to care.

_My insides were black _  
_ But you’re the reason I’m bruised_  
_ Twisted, it’s twisted,_  
_ We were an inferno, and now we’re consumed_

* * *

Yukhei loves his fans. You know, the ones that weren’t completely off their rocker and didn’t treat him like a piece of meat. Which was most of them.

They all happen to be incredibly good at reading the lines (the fans had figured out Mark and Donghyuck were hooking up before he and Jeno did, _how the fuck_), and seeing the music recommendations he gets at 3am, they have a good taste in music.

In fact, it’s one of his fans that tells him to listen to Antivenom. So it’s no surprise when they start connecting the dots. He knew it was a matter of time, anyway. Especially after he’d figured it out himself. 

> **ky loves lucas **@kyburnabridge ∙ 4m  
so uhhh why was rj referring to to ash in twisted
> 
> **i worshipped at lucas’ altar** @jijiji ∙ 1m @kyburnabridge  
I THOUGHT THAT IT WAS JUST ME,, was it just random or is there something there…. @suntributelucas @antirjvenom

Yukhei deletes the Twitter app off of his phone. Donghyuck looks like he’s got a question ready at the tip of his tongue every time Yukhei sees him, holding it back only because Mark’s glare is boring into the back of his head.

Jeno doesn’t say much. He just shows Yukhei snaps his sister’s been sending of his cats. If he sees Yukhei tearing up at how cute they are (and potential other reasons), Jeno just pats his shoulder and says, “Nal has that energy.”

Yukhei and Mark lock themselves into their recording room, ready to buckle down and write some hits, but Mark calls it off after Yukhei spends the first five hours staring listlessly at the wall, having written down _But you’re the reason I’m bruised_ all over a page in his new notebook.

He wants to see if Renjun’s said anything. But he’s also terrified. _But you’re the reason I’m bruised_. How can it be? He wants to yell. It’s not how he remembers what had happened.

Three weeks after Yukhei’s self imposed Twitter hiatus, Donghyuck waltzes into the living room saying, “Antivenom’s RJ has made a statement about the song,” and Yukhei announces he needs a drink. Or fifty. Plus alcohol poisoning.

The next morning, Jeno is the only one who decides to brave Mt Yukhei—an entity of sad, hungover, un-showered young adult, hidden and sheltered from the cold, cruel world hidden under a mass of soft blankets.

The drummer perches on the end of Yukhei’s bed, sighs, then softly places a hand on Yukhei’s ankle.

“Wanting to get alcohol poisoning was a bit of an extreme reaction,” Jeno says, finally.

“I mean,” Yukhei says, voice raspy, throat _incredibly_ dry, “Does it count if I didn’t get alcohol poisoning?”

“Yukhei, Mark-hyung is stress sorting out our cereal collection according to shape,” Jeno says. “You’re gonna have to tell us what’s going on. All RJ said was that the similarities between the songs was a coincidence.”

It’s funny. Yukhei can’t remember being nauseous all of last night, but he is now. “Oh,” he says.

“It’s obviously not that,” Jeno points out.

“Maybe.”

“Yuk-hyung.”

“I need to write.” Maybe throw up too, but maybe the word vomit will help him somewhat. “Is my phone here?”

Jeno finds it between the sheets. Staring into it is like staring into the face of the sun and Yukhei regrets it, but his phone is still on 5%, a miracle, so he pulls up the notes app and begins to write. His autocorrect works overtime, thumbs clumsy and coordination absolutely fucked.

_A game I didn’t know I was playing _  
_ A heart in shards a prize_  
_ I faced the darkness first, walked from it_  
_ Trust goes two ways, can’t you see?_

_Love has me tied up _  
_ Your voice still bleeds me dry_  
_ I was tired of fighting and I’m tired of loving_  
_ And yet to say I want to walk would be a lie_

Jeno perches his chin on Yukhei’s shoulder, watching as Yukhei continues to write. Yukhei’s kind of impressed, considering Yukhei kind of can’t stand how he smells right now—it’s offensive, a mixture of sweat, bile and spirits. But Jeno only moves to help Yukhei plug his phone into the charger, and then to rub Yukhei’s back and nuzzling against his shoulder when Yukhei belatedly realises he’s crying.

“Yuk-hyung, it’s okay.”

Is it? Yukhei doesn’t know. It’s been a while since he’s thought about all of this. Surely it shouldn’t be this painful. Time heals all wounds, right? Why does this one feel so fresh?

When Yukhei’s finally all cried out, Jeno squeezes his arm one more time, and then pulls him out of bed. “You gotta shower up and then we’re gonna have a band meeting.”

“Why?” Yukhei asks. “I’ll be okay now.”

“We gotta figure out if we’ve gotta kill this dude for making you sad,” Jeno says, “Or if you’ve done something stupid. But first—you gotta wash your hair at least twice. Christ, you fucking _stink_.”

* * *

The story Yukhei’s band is looking for goes a little bit like this:

Once upon a time, in a stereotypical middle-class neighbourhood, there were two Chinese kids who were forced into tasking their stereotypical Asian music lessons. At eight years old, Yukhei Lucas Wong had found the piano too hard and had moved onto the violin, which was somehow even _worse _to play. He’d managed to convince his parents to buy him a guitar, and although his mother struggled to hide the grimace every time Yukhei excitedly played something for her, his enthusiasm and the way he began to understand music theory a lot better than he had previously was considered a win.

(_Kerrang!_ would be shocked to hear their ‘lyrical, musical talent Lucas Wong’ was literally written off as a tone-deaf disaster as a child, but he would swear up and down that puberty blessed him with height, the ability to gain abs by laughing_ and_ musical ability.)

The second kid was Renjun Huang, Yukhei’s opposite in literally every way. Where Yukhei was a tanned kid, Renjun was paler. He was tiny and completely pocket sized, serious where Yukhei was goofy. Where Yukhei could barely speak a lick of Mandarin, stumbled over a lot of his Cantonese, completely butchered his Thai, and preferred to talk what his paternal grandmother, his _mah-mah_, called ‘English with some loaned words’, Renjun was fluent in Mandarin and Korean (how!!!), and was beginning to get a grasp on English. He was seven years old and he’d only been playing the piano for a year, but Yukhei’s old piano teacher—whom Yukhei had made cry with frustration during one of their private lessons—had taken to calling him ‘Injunnie’.

Lots of kids went to the music school, even though they had private tutoring. To this day, Yukhei’s not sure why—probably to inspire competition and for parents to show off how talented their kids are, he assumes—but the important part was, because Yukhei was _literally_ tone deaf and not the quintessential Asian virtuoso stereotype, he didn’t have music school friends.

On one fine, April day, Yukhei learned that Renjun didn’t have any friends, either.

“His English is so bad,” some snooty kids giggled, the same people who said Yukhei’s eyes were too big and that he looked stupid holding his guitar. He remembers hearing them pretending to stumble over words and giggling, and he remembers thinking that they were very, very ugly people.

(His maternal grandmother, his _yai_, had pinched him by the ear once, after he’d whined about his mother having problems shifting between different languages. “Ah, Lucas, that’s very ugly of you,” she’d said, in Thai he’d struggled to understand. “It’s rude to expect your mother to speak English as well as you when she has other languages in her brain. How well do you speak Thai?”

His Thai is still shithouse, although his relatives understand him well enough, struggling with the tones although Cantonese is full of them, but he’d felt terrible and had had worked from the age of six to be as good at Thai as he could be. His _yai_ and the rest of his Thai family had never complained about how shit he spoke Thai, and he’d never made a bad comment about people trying to be multilingual ever again. Lesson learned.)

He’d found Renjun sitting at a piano, shoulders and arms and fingers trembling, curled up in a way their shared piano teacher wouldn’t like. When Yukhei approached, Renjun’s eyes were red, tears spilling from them.

He remembers Renjun had shouted something at him in Mandarin—he’d learn later on that it meant _leave—_before switching to English. “Go.”

“I can’t speak Chinese well,” Yukhei had said, clasping his hands in front of them. “Not any of them. And my teacher says I could get better English grades.” That was a lie. Yukhei was the best reader and writer in his class. “Those kids are mean. They said I look like a fish because I have big eyes and big lips but what do they know, huh? I bet they’re gonna look ugly when they grow up. They’ll get wrinkles. My mom says they’re really bad.”

Renjun had stared at him, lips still trembling, jaw tight like he was ready to throw a punch. He was still crying, but he’d said nothing.

“Oh, right,” Yukhei said, realising. “Those kids. bad. Ugly. Demons. Uh…” He reached for a Chinese word, that he had heard his father used. Hopefully it would get the point across.

It hadn’t _meant_ bad, but it had been a bad word. Renjun’s jaw had dropped, eyes wide, and when Yukhei tried to take it back, Renjun had started laughing. “Bad word,” Renjun said, “But good boy.”

Renjun dried his tears off with a packet of pocket tissues, and Yukhei swore he’d do his best to protect the tiny little kid from getting picked on. Renjun played him a piano piece that was so beautiful he’d needed a tissue of his own. Yukhei had played him the new piece he was learning on the guitar in response, and Renjun, without a grimace had said, “Good. Good.”

And that’s how eight year old Yukhei Lucas Wong fell in love with Renjun Huang.

* * *

The story Yukhei tells is just as truthful, but it’s not the whole story.

“We dated,” he says, eyes sore, voice scratchy. They really need to replace their placemats. “It didn’t go so well.”

He thinks about the haunting face on the video, the way it reminded him very much of a younger Renjun, _scarily_ of how it felt when his breath fanned over Yukhei’s face as they leaned into kiss. Yukhei scrambles to repress and compartmentalise, but there’s something about Renjun’s face in the _Twisted_ video that’s ironically untwisted him, leaving him frazzled and caught up in the past.

He can’t help but think, _This is shit!_ He hates dealing with feelings.

Donghyuck leans over, eyebrows furrowed. “Do we need to put a hit out? We’re rich enough for that now, Yuk. Just say the word.”

“_Donghyuck!_”

“Yukhei is usually our designated driver!” Donghyuck snaps. “Anyone who makes Yukhei wish alcohol poisoning on himself is on my shit list!”

“We’re not going to fucking _murder_ anyone,” Mark says, pulling Donghyuck back into his seat. “And no, we’re not going to try to steal their fucking cats if the band has any, Jeno, I _know_ the look on your face.” There’s a whine coming from Yukhei’s left, which means Mark’s right on.

“I’d be down with stealing their cats, to be honest. We should have a cat.”

“I can bring up Bongshik!”

“You’re literally allergic Jeno. Like, basically anaphylactic.”

“Donghyuck Lee is a carrier of deadly bacteria and you let him sleep in your bed and rub his body all over yours,” Jeno shoots back, “And you don’t see me judging you for the things you do for love.”

“Dude, what the _fuck_! We’re ride or dies!”

“I love you, Hyuck, but you’re literally the grossest.”

“Okay, shut up,” Mark says, waving at the pair of them, urging them to be quiet. “We do what we do best. We right some good music and hopefully someone likes it.”

* * *

> **Lucas** @suntributelucas ∙ 1h  
you ever get food poisoning so bad you forget how to use a phone? me. #lucasisbackontwitterparty #letsgetthishydrolyte
> 
> **RJ **@antirjvenom∙ 5m  
dripping honey, dripping lies

(“Can’t I just deactivate?” Yukhei whines as soon as he gets the post notification on his private account.

“Stop fucking following him!”

“Hyuck, grab his phone. Jeno, push him into the recording studio.”

“Got it boss.”)

> **Lucas **@suntributelucas ∙ 2m  
going back to work! i gotta birth an album for you, my dudes x

* * *

Donghyuck pretends to be Yukhei on Twitter for three months. It’s weird, how much joy he gets out of it. Jeno routinely hacks into his account to post pictures of his cats and Yukhei is wrongly credited for getting #BringJenosCatsHome on Twitter’s Discover page.

(Much to Jeno and a lot of the fans’ dismay, it doesn’t work. Mark and Yeeun had staged an intervention listing about twenty reasons why he couldn’t bring his cats to their shared apartment. Jeno had drunkenly yelled he was going to sue his older sister at a party the week after, but Yeeun had called not too long after, mentioning that she was sorry and that she would be just as hysterical if she’d been separated from the cats, too. Yukhei doesn’t fully get it, but at least Jeno’s made peace with his sister. Now he and Yeeun run the new Instagram handle, @jenoscats.)

Yukhei spends his time writing, living in some sort of weird limbo of the past and present, about what it was like to be with Renjun, and what it’s like to be without him. He thinks about about sunny days riding their bikes on quiet streets and how the ice-cream the nice aunties used to give them used to run down his hands and make them stick to his handlebars. He writes about the freedom and the way those days felt so endless. He spends nights reminiscing about sitting under the sky, or peering out the window of Renjun’s bedroom, talking about their dreams and the future, whispering promises that no one was supposed to hear. They’re all broken now, and Yukhei writes about that too. _I never made a promise I couldn’t keep, til you. _

Sometimes he walks out of the recording studio lighter, happier, brighter. More like the person he was before he first discovered Antivenom, before they began to blow up and began to run in their usual circles (thank _God_ they weren’t gigging as much, excusing themselves to write). A lot of the time, he walks out tired, raw, lost. Occasionally, it’s in tears.

He knows that the others know that there’s something more that he’s not telling them, but the best thing about his band is that they don’t pry. Not even Donghyuck, whose own private Twitter account basically follows every iteration of Tea Spill and gossip site about Beauty YouTuber drama. (Donghyuck _will_ break out in hives if you slap anything onto his face, but he has theories about what happened to Jaclyn Hill’s make up. Go figure.)

Occasionally, when he can’t sleep, Yukhei tweets his usual “3am song recs go! or tell me how you’re feeling xx” and he responds to the fans, happy to have them, reminding himself that he’s baring his soul as catharsis, but also so hopefully they won’t feel so alone, the way he’d had when shit had hit the fan. He listens to their recommendations, and he thinks about Renjun, and sometimes he writes more, or he falls asleep, exhausted.

He writes most of the album on his own, Mark writing a few of the songs, more of their regular sound, to lighten it up a bit. On the happier ones—inspired by days in the sun, memories of a warm hand in his own—they collaborate. They record as they go, and suddenly they have an album ready, and they’re beginning to prepare for promotions and cover artwork and Yukhei doesn’t even realise how he gets here.

He doesn’t check Renjun’s Twitter. He’s unfollowed Antivenom’s Twitter on his private account, too.

The album, they decide, should be called _Catharsis_. It’s a darker, sadder sound, but it’s uplifting in its own way. It’s a release. Yukhei will finally be able to move on. Maybe one day he’ll wake up and realise that he’s left Renjun Huang in his past and it’ll all be over, but for now, at least, he’s just hoping to put him back in the box. He can accept that.

And then, when Yukhei’s finally changed his Twitter password and decided to run it himself again, retweeting a photo of Seol and looking at the new Lucas memes his diligent fans have made, does he see a link to an article that makes his heart fall flat.

> **Rock Weekly **@rockweekly ∙ 4h  
Melancholy, reminiscent, and surprisingly full of piano, @antivenomofficial’s vocalist RJ @antirjvenom releases a solo digital EP under birth name Renjun Huang, called ‘I can’t speak’.

* * *

“Never,” Yukhei’s mother had stressed, “Make any big choices about your life for a girl.”

Yukhei, who thought Zendaya was pretty but who was already in love with Renjun, had asked, “What about for a boy?”

His mother had raised both eyebrows, and then she’d said, “Especially not for boys. Boys are even more worrisome than girls.”

When Yukhei said, “But didn’t you move countries for Dad?” She’d responded, “Not unless you’re sure they’d do the same for you. And your father would.”

His mother is and was a fountain of wisdom, her brain open to things Yukhei can’t even comprehend. And yet, while Yukhei follows most of the things she’s suggested, down from _Make sure you wash behind your ears, Lucas, very important!_ to _You should have some monetary independence but make sure you go to your father for advice as to how to invest your money, darling_, this is the one piece of advice he didn’t follow. Because Yukhei did, in fact, make a big choice about his life, and revolved it around a boy. Which was even more worrisome than revolving his life around a girl. And much like what happens when he forgets to wash behind his ears, his mother was proven to be right as always.

To set the scene: Yukhei is sixteen years old, good at some things, decent at others. He’s finally grown into his looks, and everyone who ever said he looked like a fucking pouty fish did _not_ have the glow up he did, and when some of them try to ask him out he remembers the way they used to laugh at Renjun’s English, or the way they made fun of how he looked, and he goes, “Thanks, but no thanks.”

Renjun is in the year below him. Renjun’s English is fluent now, self-and-Yukhei taught, with little thanks to the public education system. Teachers love him, students fear him, and Yukhei still thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread. He’s still fucking tiny, not shooting up the way Yukhei had, and he likes these cute little shoes with ladybugs on them that make Yukhei want to cry when he wears them because they’re cute, but for the most part Renjun is as serious and driven as he’s ever been. And he has plans.

“I don’t want to be a pianist,” Renjun says. “I wanna be in a band.”

Yukhei doesn’t know how piano skills translate into rock band stuff, but he went from the violin to the acoustic guitar to picking up the bass and _he’s_ doing fine, and Renjun’s a certified virtuoso, so. Yukhei has absolute faith in him. “You will be,” he assures him. “You can do whatever you want, Junnie.”

Renjun bites his lip. “You think?”

“Duh,” Yukhei says. “You can literally do _anything_ and do it well. Of course you could do what you want.”

Renjun’s silent for a moment, tapping his fingers against his knee, playing a silent concerto as he thinks. “If I’m in a band,” Renjun says, “Then you have to be in one with me,” he says. “We’re in this together, Ryan and Sharpay style. Right?”

“Right,” Yukhei confirms immediately. He gives no thought to how much he enjoys prose and analysing literature. All thoughts of reading and reading and reading fly out the window. He’s gonna be in a band. With Renjun. Fate decided, just like that. “We’ll be famous and we’ll write cool music and do stupid shit, and my mom will think we’re all sex, drugs and rock and roll but we’re not because I’m scared she’ll disown me.”

Renjun giggles. “You promise?”

“Pinky swears, my dude,” Yukhei holds his hand out. They link their pinkies—there’s a sizeable difference now, one that didn’t exist when they were kids. Yukhei watches as Renjun’s ears turn red as he pulls his hand away.

“Good,” Renjun says. “Good.” He smiles throughout lunch.

* * *

The band Sun Tribute sit around Mark’s fucking ancient MacBook (“It’s still good,” Mark hurriedly says, whenever Donghyuck stares too long at the dint on the front of it), opened up to Renjun Huang’s artist page on Spotify. Yukhei stares at the small circle, at the young man that looks scarily like the boy he used to know. There’s no stage paint, no deliberate harshness. He’s soft and he’s young and he’s the boy of Yukhei’s dreams.

Jeno has the cursor hovering the album artwork for _I can’t speak_, itching to press play. He hasn’t, because Yukhei had screamed himself hoarse, begging him not to.

It’s bad. Yukhei’s scared to even _look_ at the fucking song titles, let alone listen to the fucking album. They’d tried to say everything, do anything to calm him down, but they don’t _get it—_this is about him. Yukhei knows it’s about him the way he knows he’s Yukhei Wong, occasionally Lucas, full-time disaster human, sometimes lyrical genius. He knows because those are the first and last words he’d spoken to Renjun Huang, just over a decade apart.

When he reveals this missing piece of the puzzle, Donghyuck and Jeno deflate. They stop trying to justify it. Because how can you? Yukhei spent the formative years of his life trying to understand Renjun better than himself. It’s not just a bad breakup, there’s a whole story there. It's the life Yukhei lived before he was Sun Tribute’s Lucas that they didn’t know about. Renjun has the other half.

They want to hear it. They want to know.

Yukhei, twenty-two and still fucking hopelessly _in love_ with Renjun Huang, is terrified the album is going to confirm everything that he’s dreaded for years.

Jeno sighs, reaching for the trackpad. “We don’t have to do this, Yuk-hyung,” he says. “Not if it’s going to destroy you like this.”

He starts moving the cursor. Yukhei realises later he’s hoping to click out of it, let them go on their day. But Yukhei goes, “_Wait_,” and Jeno jumps, and he hits play. Before any of them come to their senses, Renjun’s voice plays through Mark’s tinny speakers.

_Voiceless little lonely boy _  
_ Wilting away in the cul-de-sac_  
_ I lit up the world around me_  
_ Because you gave me a voice_

Yukhei’s legs can’t hold him up. His band members are too stunned to keep him standing or push him back onto the couch. They listen to the 24 minutes of Renjun’s EP in silence, and when it’s done, there are tears streaming down all their cheeks.

_We broke each other _  
_ Never to see each other again_  
_ Funny how fate works, huh?_  
_ You’ve left me speechless again_

* * *

Their high school gets two new transfers in Yukhei’s senior year. They’re notable because they both end up in Renjun and Yukhei’s shared music class. The teacher introduces them as Jaemin Na and Song Yuqi.

Jaemin Na is a walking ‘uwu’ face and sparkly heart eyes he likes to direct at Renjun. He plays the piano _and _the guitar, is super courteous, the teachers _and_ students love him, and his nickname is _Nana_. Yukhei doesn’t trust the kid as far as he could throw him. Which, truthfully, that point in time could’ve been decently far, since Yukhei had gotten into sport and working out, but, still. He’s no weightlifter and his point still stands. Jaemin Na is _sus_. This doesn’t stop Renjun from him and Jaemin hitting it off like a house on fire, though, and Yukhei tries to push it all back down and be civil, but he doesn’t know how well he does.

Song Yuqi—not Yuqi Song, because she’s a transfer student and she asked them nicely to please respect her name, so Yukhei did—is tiny and fluffy haired and he laughs when she pushes someone out of the way to get the solo that she’d had her eye on for days. Her instrument is her voice. It's low and sultry, pretty in a unique way. She’s also in Yukhei’s literature class, and they both think that while Keats had the shittiest fucking life, they like to laugh at his poetry, which means that they’re fast friends.

In hindsight, it makes _a lot of fucking sense_ that Renjun doesn’t warm up Yuqi, but teenagers often don’t see the full picture until it’s too late.

Anyways. Jaemin always seems to be lingering around and Yuqi needs a friend, so while he does his best to hang out with Renjun as much as he used to, they drift apart a little. As he watches from a distance how Renjun begins to laugh loudly and happily at Jaemin’s jokes, the way he begins to gravitate towards him, leaning into him and holding him close, Yukhei _burns_ with jealousy, and he hates it. He has no right. He’s never made a move and Renjun has always deserved to have more friends. But some gross, irrational part of him feels like it’s unfair. Renjun is _his_. He’s loved him so long, how dare Jaemin sweep in and take his mans?

“It doesn’t work like that,” Yuqi informs him, after Yukhei airs his dirty laundry. She raises an eyebrow, lips pursed. “If you really love Renjun, you’ll fight for him. Or you’ll let him go.”

“Sure,” Yukhei says. “Of course.”

He doesn’t, because he’s never had to fight for Renjun before. They’ve always just _had_ each other. And he doesn’t let him go, because how can he?

But then it’s almost Christmas, and Yukhei is wrapping a scarf around his neck, waiting for Renjun to pack his bag, when Renjun bites his lip and says, “Jaemin asked me to the Winter Dance.”

Yukhei almost fucking chokes himself by accident, he really does. “Oh!” He says. “That’s—That’s great!” What else is he supposed to say? Renjun looks so nervous. “Uh. Did you say yes?”

Renjun stares at him, sparkling eyes piercing, and Yukhei’s sure that’s not the answer Renjun wanted, but Yukhei can’t take his words back now, he doesn’t know what to do. He’s never been in a situation like this before, between a rock and a hard place and being paralysed by love. “I mean,” Renjun says, “I said I’d think about it. I’ll probably message him and say we’ll go together.”

Two things happen in the space of a second. First, Yukhei’s brain goes _LOVE IS DEAD LOVE IS FUCKING DEAD_. The second: Yukhei’s big fat mouth opens and says, “Go with me instead. I’ll even buy you a corsage.”

It takes a few moments for Renjun to respond, both of them reeling from Yukhei’s latest episode of putting his foot in it, but when he does, at _least_ Renjun doesn’t seem mad. “You’re not going with Yuqi?”

Yukhei frowns. “Nah, she’s thinking about going with someone in our math class.”

“Not you?”

Yukhei shakes his head. “No. Why?”

Renjun closes his locker, adjusts his backpack strap and says, “If you’re gonna get a corsage, get orchids. And one for yourself. And matching buttonholes. We’re going all fucking out, Yukhei Wong.”

“I’ll buy us corsages and you buy the buttonholes, then.” Matching flowers. God, Yukhei wants to die. He went from giving zero fucks about this date to daydreaming about it in two seconds flat.

“Deal.” Renjun beams.

That night, Renjun calls Jaemin and tells him he’s sorry, but he had to confirm that he wasn’t going with Yukhei, and that Yukhei had already made a booking (he had, although it wasn’t as planned out as Jaemin might’ve thought). Jaemin goes with Yangyang Liu, and while Yukhei can’t shake his initial impression of him, he does notice that Jaemin isn’t trying to radiate love heart energy at Renjun anymore.

Renjun and Yukhei decide to do their corsage shopping online. They buy their flowers—RIP Yukhei’s savings—and when Yukhei sees the smile on Renjun’s face, bright, overwhelming, and so, so happy, Yukhei says, “So, like, I really fucking like you, Renjun.”

It’s the understatement of the fucking century, but it’s not a lie. Yukhei likes him to the point of irrationality.

Renjun beams. “I like you too, Yukhei.”

Renjun’s lips are warm and holding him close, _this _close, feels like a fever dream. Even by the time they walk into the school gym for the Winter Dance, matching corsages and buttonholes on, holding hands, it still doesn’t feel real.

He remembers Yuqi giving them a thumbs up as they slow danced in the middle of the floor, the way Renjun laughed and nuzzled his face against Yukhei's neck. The lights were so beautiful, and Yukhei had felt so warm inside, buzzing with love and affection and the moment. It’s one of the best days of his life. It’s his taste of heaven, the nirvana he tries to impart on whoever listens to the music he writes. On love, on the top of the world, affection like effervescence.

* * *

After listening to Renjun Huang’s critically acclaimed EP, _I can’t speak_, Yukhei allows himself one (1) ugly, horrible breakdown. It mostly occurs buried between the other three of his members, unable to stop crying after hearing the not-even-remotely rock ballad, _Love is difficult_. He tweets a line that will haunt him for the rest of his days: _The world was so big, and now it’s cold and small, Radiate your light on places I can’t reach_. Then he gets rip-roaringly drunk, again, and _somehow_ doesn’t get alcohol poisoning, although it feels like he’s drinking 100% ethanol alcohol, but. Alas.

His emotional bender ends and life goes on. Yukhei tweets a few more generic tweets about their upcoming album, people speculate about Yukhei’s reaction to Renjun's EP, and Yukhei writes one final song for the album that he needs for closure. He calls it _Not How I Remember It_.

Renjun Huang wrote a whole album about him, talking about how much he loved this bright, happy boy who gave him a voice. But there are lines that still eat at him, threatening to pull himself into his misery. All of them imply this fictitious person never loved Renjun the way Yukhei loved (loves) Renjun. And it hurts, because why the _fuck_ would be so caught up in all of this, so debilitatingly sad, if he didn’t love Renjun exactly the way Renjun thought he didn’t?

Mark doesn’t allow him to record any more response songs after _Not How I Remember It_. “All of them ask why,” he says, “And they’re all too self-deprecative for a Sun Tribute record. Please don’t beat yourself up over this, Yukhei. Your side of the story will be out in the open soon.”

> **Rock Weekly **@rockweekly ∙ 2h  
@suntributeofficial’s new album ‘Catharsis’ explores the ins and outs of love. With the majority of the album written by Lucas Wong @suntributelucas, it is believed that it is the bassist’s side of the relationship that fuelled the writing of Renjun Huang’s acclaimed EP, ‘I can’t speak’.
> 
> **Rock Weekly **@rockweekly ∙ 2h  
Although it’s uncertain how Huang and Wong know each other and when they may have dated, both are believed to have been engaged in writing songs about each other since the release of @suntributeofficial’s ‘To Ash’, written solely by Wong. Believed to be written about rumoured ex, Song Yuqi, Huang referenced the song in Antivenom’s acoustic release, ‘Twisted’.
> 
> **Rock Weekly **@rockweekly ∙ 2h  
Huang stated that the references to ‘To Ash’ were coincidental, but considering the many similarities and themes running through ‘I can’t speak’ and ‘Catharsis’, it is believed that they are writing about a failed relationship. Sun Tribute’s management has confirmed that ‘Catharsis’ has been in the works for months, prior to the release of ‘I can’t speak’, except for the single, ‘Not How I Remember It’.

* * *

_Not How I Remember It _charts on Billboard. It charts worldwide. _Catharsis_ goes fucking platinum. It’s a hit.

It’s not what Yukhei intended. It’s a win for the band, but he hadn’t done it to prove Renjun wrong or anything. It was just his way of getting his side of the story out into the open. It was something he hadn’t really discussed with anyone, except maybe Yuqi, a little. Renjun certainly hadn’t heard it. He’d never given Yukhei a chance to explain.

Doyoung, their manager, makes him do at least one interview on the matter. He doesn’t really want to, but the band insists.

No one from Antivenom has commented yet, anyway.

“So tell me, Lucas,” Yerim Kim, a hotshot music interviewer, says with a smile, “About your new hit. I understand that you wrote it in about a day a little while after completing the rest of the album.”

“Yeah.” Yukhei shifts uncomfortably on his seat. “I guess you can say I was feeling inspired.”

Yerim gets straight to the point. “The rumour is that it’s a direct response to Renjun Huang’s EP.” It’s callous but Yukhei appreciates it. Now he doesn’t have to be cautious, making sure he’s reading between the lines and wherever else. “Which is rumoured to be in response to your previous single, _To Ash_. I’m just gonna ask—is it true?”

Yukhei’s lips pout as he ponders his words. He looks at them from all perspectives, the way he usually does before sending them out to the universe before saying, “Yeah. It’s a response to _I can’t speak_. To the song _Puppy love_, especially.”

Yerim’s eyes widen a little bit. Clearly, no one was expecting Yukhei to be so candid. “See, now you’ve said it, that makes a lot of sense. For those who haven’t heard it, _Puppy love_ is a song about falling in love with someone who doesn’t feel as strongly about it. And so you’re saying that’s not what happened?”

“I didn’t say that,” Yukhei replies, measured. “It’s just a response to that song, from my own experiences.”

“Could you elaborate on that?”

Yukhei shrugs. “There are always two sides to every story. And many people have fallen despairingly in love. As someone who’s been so in love with someone that it was unhealthy and consuming, only for that person to invalidate it… I couldn’t help but write my feelings down. A lot of us have fallen for someone who didn’t appreciate us for who we were, for whatever reason. But sometimes there’s usually a good reason behind their behaviour. Maybe we were just bad at expressing it. Sometimes there isn’t, and then _Puppy love _is right—it’s not that equal reciprocation, I guess? But sometimes it is, and people are convinced otherwise. I just wanted to write what I lived, and how I’d loved.”

Yerim takes a moment to process, blinking a few times before nodding and asking the next question, talking about writing with Mark. It’s an easy question, a reprieve, because writing with Mark always feels like breathing and he’s always said as much.

He has no idea how Yerim’s gonna write this up, but Yukhei relaxes into the interview, reflective.

He’d spent his childhood trying to understand Huang Renjun. He's realising now that he hadn’t made sure Renjun knew how to read Yukhei. Now, his feelings are all out in the open, soul bared, the writing on the wall. Maybe Renjun checks out the interview, maybe he doesn’t. He'll certainly check out the album, at least. But—ugh he hates this fucking term—he’s spoken his truth. In the case against _Huang v. Wong_, Yukhei’s put up a solid defence.

When he leaves Yerim Kim’s office, Yukhei feels impossibly lighter. He’s still in love with Renjun Huang, and he doesn’t know if that’s ever going to change, but the feelings and the sadness have disappeared. He thinks about the night of his senior year winter dance, of effervescence, and he closes the door on it all. He doesn’t have to keep the memories at bay. They’re at peace now. He’s done it. Catharsis complete.

* * *

**RJ (@antirjvenom)**

hey

i understand that i’m literally the last person you’d want to talk to

but

can we talk?

sure

* * *

**Lucas (@suntributelucas)**

okay i should’ve said this when we were in the cafe but i literally didn’t know how to bring it but

you know i’m sorry now right and that’s good

but i’m just sort of like

i’m not very good at words, and i wasn’t sure how i was meant to say

it was the most relieving and devastating thing to find out you loved me. because suddenly i was way more  
at fault than i realised i was, and if i just listened maybe things would’ve been different

but i. was so scared of losing you then, if you left it wouldn’t be my fault you know?? i still don’t know how  
you put up with me for all that time

and this is crazy

but knowing you’re ready to put this all behind us

i think that’s probably the scariest thing of all

[Read: 3:21am]

* * *

Yukhei is mellow, sleepy but not exhausted. His bed is warmer than it usually is, and the familiar scent of a cottony cologne lingers on his pillows. He buries head in his pillow to hide his grin. God, this was all fucking crazy.

“Yukhei.” Mark hits Yukhei’s bicep. “Renjun Huang is in our kitchen. Wearing one of your shirts. Oh my God, he stayed here. You’re _smiling_. Look, fuck, Yukhei—Donghyuck saw him in the kitchen and he's lowkey threatening to kill him—”

Yukhei scrambles out of bed. “You left them with Renjun?!” Wherever Donghyuck usually was, Jeno was there for moral support.

“Did you think I could’ve shut them up? Be realistic!”

Yukhei stumbles three times on the way to the kitchen. Donghyuck and Jeno are sitting on the bench, arms crossed. Renjun stares at them, cooking something.

“.... Can you tell me where your plates are? The bacon will burn if I leave it in here for too long.” Renjun’s gaze shifts to where Yukhei is standing, and his cheeks flush. “Hey, Yuk.”

Yukhei couldn’t stop the wide smile on his face even if he tried. “Hey, Junnie.”

When Renjun looks down, shy, Jeno hits Donghyuck on the arm. “We read this wrong, Hyuckie. He’s telling the truth.”

“Why the fuck did you think he was lying?” He isn’t sure what Renjun might’ve said, but it wouldn’t have been too wild, right?

“He said you guys were dating!” Donghyuck protests. Yukhei’s heart drops into his ass. “Can you blame me for being shocked?”

If he’s being honest, not really. Yukhei is also (positively) blindsided by the sudden news. He raises an eyebrow and Renjun bites his lip, reaching for his arm.

“I said we _might be_,” Renjun defends. “We have to talk about it. Properly.”

“You better be,” Donghyuck says. “You hurt our Yuk-hyung! This diss battle you had took a lot out of him.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Renjun looks down.

“Hyuck, it's fine.” Renjun looks up at him from underneath his lashes, and _yeah_, maybe it wasn't fine and it’s a fair comment for Donghyuck to make. But Yukhei's talked to Renjun about it, and he doesn’t want to make him feel worse. It’s time for them to move on from the ugly feelings, not remind each other of them. Yukhei shuffles a little closer to Renjun, reaching out for his other arm. Renjun drops the spatula to hold it.

“Do you wanna?” Yukhei asks. “Date, I mean? For real?”

Renjun blinks. “I mean. Yeah. Of course. But like. We gotta talk first.”

“We will,” Yukhei promises, but he leans down to kiss the side of his mouth anyway. “I can’t believe you made breakfast.”

Renjun doesn’t move or say anything for a moment, clearly stunned, but he clears his throat and gestures vaguely at the bacon and eggs on the stove. “I made some for you and for your band members. It’s gotten a little cold now, though. Do you know where the plates are?”

Donghyuck splutters.

Yukhei hears the sound of a cupboard opening, the familiar _clack_ of plates hitting other plates. He watches the way the blush creeks up onto the high points of Renjun's face. _Cute_. “Here,” Jeno says. “Sorry.”

“Me too,” Renjun replies, and Donghyuck begins to relax on the counter. “Shall we eat?”

* * *

**Eight Months Later**

* * *

RJ from Antivenom is like, super hot. He could totally get it. Yukhei shouldn’t be having so many inappropriate thoughts t-minus 5 minutes to debuting a new song at an awards show, but he’s apparently a slave to his hormones and chains and perfectly smoked out eyeliner.

RJ from Antivenom takes one look at him from under his lashes, scoffs, and steps away from him. Yukhei watches the silver chains hanging from his waist sway.

Who would miss them, you know? Yukhei’s eyes dart around backstage. There are some cool nook and crannies. Does he need to win Song of the Year? He doesn’t think so—

“I can literally _hear_ your horny thoughts over this fucking garbage music.” Renjun’s eyes are sparkling. “Come on, we’re professionals.”

Yukhei snorts. “That’s questionable.”

“Yeah, okay. Fair.” Renjun adjusts his in-ears. “But if I fuck up this outfit, Ten will kill me, and it would be a pretty shitty end to a good evening, right?”

Renjun’s a shoo in for album of the year. He’s got a point.

“Fair,” Yukhei echoes. “It’s only 4 minutes and 27 seconds long anyway.” Maybe they’ll pull a Shaun Mendes and Camila Cabello on the stage except they’ll actually make out because that’s what the people—themselves included—want.

“Right.” Renjun looks over him, with a little smile, before saying, “But, in the spirit of being non-professional…”

Renjun reaches up, pulling Yukhei down by his artfully styled hair, and leaves a bruising, lingering kiss. Yukhei wants to pull him closer but Renjun’s gotten really good at pulling back and staring at him with a raised eyebrow and a grin.

“You ruined my hair,” Yukhei pouts.

Renjun puts a hand through it, smoothing it out. “You look like a proper rock star now,” he says. “Like you made out with a groupie, or something.”

“Or maybe a fellow rock star who’s written diss music about me?”

“Or maybe a collaborator.” Renjun beams.

“You’re on in thirty seconds!” Someone calls from behind them, and Yukhei blows Renjun a kiss as they go towards their spots—Renjun behind the electric keyboard, Yukhei to pick up his guitar.

_“In a world exclusive, performing their first collaboration and new single, _Jealousy is a disease but love isn’t, _this is Lucas and RJ!”_

It might've been five years too late, and they're not officially in a band together, but it's still what they'd intended as kids, and it's everything Yukhei would have ever wanted in a collaboration. His blood sings, he feels like he's higher than a fucking kite, and he watches Renjun sing the lyrics that they'd penned together, wrapped up in Yukhei's mountains of blankets and each other, tears in their eyes and hearts on their sleeve. If that Winter Dance was a taste of heaven, this is it. He's reached it now, on a stage with the guy he loves, performing a song about _them_. 

(“... And finally,” Yukhei says, about an hour later, hands trembling as he holds the award in his hands, surrounded by his band members, looking for the familiar pair of sparkly eyes in the audience, “Thank you to Renjun for making everything effervescent. You know I love you, right?”

Renjun puts a thumbs up into the air, and Yukhei laughs through his happy tears.)

**Author's Note:**

> \- band roles for sun tribute are lucas (bassist), mark (lead guitar), jeno (drums), donghyuck (vocals). sun tribute are more alt-rock than anything.  
\- band roles and members of antivenom are renjun (vocalist/electric keyboard), jaemin (lead guitar), yangyang (bassist), chenle (electric keyboard/vocalist), jisung (drums). antivenom leads more towards metal and punk.  
\- yuqi is a pop singer who likes to work with jazz elements.  
\- there are way too many tuberculosis metaphors in this fic. if you find any and point them out to me i'll love you forever probably <3
> 
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